


Thrill of the Kill

by Nellblazer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternative Universe - FBI, Cat and Mouse, Detectives, F/M, Graphic Description, Investigations, Misogyny, Murder, POV First Person, Police, Power Play, Serial Killers, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Voyeurism, dark bucky barnes, deTECTIVE READER
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: The Winter Killer had fled America but when he turns up again in England, you’re tasked with tracking him down before he kills again. The FBI and Interpol send over help in the form of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark but will it be enough to catch him?*Please do not replicate my work anywhere else without my express permission*
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 52
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Murder, violence, misogyny, stalking, voyeurism
> 
> A/N: I’ve mainly set this in England because I know our investigation processes better than trying to fudge my way through American ones but the female reader is not described by ethnicity or nationality. Also note this fic will get pretty messed up at points. Trying to go for a police procedural vibe.
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

Just as the attacks stopped in America so they started again in England but by the time the connection was made, four girls were already dead across the length of the country.

The Winter Killer has successfully escaped, just as the feds were closing in, only to find his amusement an ocean away. He was smart, and yes I believe firmly it was a he, very smart not to leave his calling card until he was entirely entrenched in travelling up the M1 motorway and picking off his victims along the way.

A single snowflake appeared in the hand of the fourth victim, unique to them, as all the others had been before. The monster was getting bolder and it wouldn't be long before the papers got wind of it.

So far I'd managed to stonewall any attempt at the information leaking but the PR officer was beside himself trying to plug the gaps as journalists hounded him for press releases. They knew something big was happening, they just didn't know what.

The second a taskforce is set up, like mine was, it was a shining beacon, declaring to the entire country that serious crimes were occurring.

I just really wish I hadn't let DS Ray Skelton pick the operation name because I was too knee deep in evidence cataloguing at the time.

Operation Elsa.

The public were going to crucify us for that name.

“Ma'am?” DC Dave Hunt rapped on the door. “That Interpol bloke's coming later. The Chief Con just wanted to remind you.”

“Oh, yes. Right. Cheers, Dave,” I shake my head, having completely forgotten. “How's your daughter by the way?”

“Getting better, they reckon. She's still finding it hilarious to try on different wigs so at least she's smiling,” he gives a sort of strained smile. “Janice isn't coping too well but-”

“-that's to be expected,” I cut him off because he's getting a bit misty eyed and if I was in his position, I would be too. “Are you sure you want to sign on for this task force?”

“Yeah, good distraction,” he nods before changing the subject. “Did you get the memo about the FBI agent too?”

“The...what?” I blink, scrabbling through the mess of notes on my desk. “What memo?!”

“Ray left it on your computer.”

It takes me a few minutes to find it, hidden under my keyboard before I see:

**DCI, Senior Special Agent Rogers attending alongside Interpol Officer Stark. Play nice. CC Nalilungwe.**

“Shit,” I bang my head on the desk. “This case just got so much more high profile if the FBI are asking for a merger.”

“It'll be alright, Ma'am,” Ray saunters past, fingering his packet of cigarettes. “I'll go out and get more biscuits in. Can't go wrong with a big plate of biscuits to keep everyone happy.”

“Well they'd better be pretty fucking luxurious biscuits then,” I start tidying frantically. “None of the Tesco own brand. We want Borders. I'll give you the money back later.”

“Right-o,” Ray stuffs a cigarette in his mouth before trotting off down the hall.

“Dave, do me a favour and clean the whiteboard. We've got to be on our best behaviour here and as amusing as DS Williams' penis snowflake is, I doubt it'll go down well professionally,” I instruct Dave.

“No blowing off steam. Got it,” Dave slaps his thighs and goes to make the office more presentable.

By the time Rogers and Stark got into the building, Operation Elsa was up to the highest standard.

**

IO Tony Stark was the type of person who would've fit in well with my team if he was staying any length of time. He cracked jokes, had this easy sort of air to him and got on well with everyone.

SSA Steve Rogers on the other hand...I'd never seen a more by the book person in my life. The second after I'd introduced myself, he'd bypassed me to look at the case notes and the evidence wall, arms sternly folded and promptly ignored everyone until he was done reading.

“-so Rogers thought he'd come along in person after being the head of the investigation team in the US,” Tony was explaining. “Easier than sending a bunch of paper work and doing video calls.”

“Have you run fingerprints? DNA?” Steve interrupts him and I take a second to realise he's turned to me.

“Of course. No match to anyone in the UK but a match to your records. It's the same person. One single long brown hair is all we recovered. He's been wearing gloves I'd wager but doesn't like to tie his hair back when killing.”

“So you agree with me then?” Steve arches an eyebrow. “Male killer? The length of the hair and the use of floral scented shampoo, some would reckon was female. I think they're so desperate for have a notorious female killer they're ignoring the obvious.”

“Yes well you see, there's a key difference between your cases and ours in the most recent victim. Ray, pass me the photos.”

Ray slides them over, nervously chewing on his nicotine gum. I don't know why he bothered with it frankly, he was hopelessly addicted to smoking.

I show Steve the markings on the neck and he goes very quiet for a time.

“Care to share with the group, pal?” Tony prompts.

“He's strangled this victim with his hands and tried to cover it up with strangling them with cord afterwards. He's getting more personal,” Steve's jaw ticks. “Bastard.”

“The hand span is consistent with a male,” I point out. “And looks like there's a ring indent on his right index finger. Possibly a signet?”

“Sounds like he's getting bolder,” DS Nick Williams pipes up. “Not covering his hair up for starters but switching the strangulation method. We also found her in her lingerie and nothing else.”

“Sexually assaulted?” Steve asks.

“Nah,” Nick shakes his head. “Reckon he just likes them to be vulnerable.”

“A power play,” I continue his thread. “He never, as far as we're aware, touches them in any other way except to kill them.”

“I've got my copies of the US cases,” Tony points to the big case he brought with him. “We can compare notes for now.”

“Here's what's going to happen,” Steve leans on the table. “Your evidence and any witness statements will come through me. Any sniff of a sighting or a positive ID comes through me. Nobody speaks to the press or they'll be thrown off this task force and disciplined. Am I clear?”

My whole team just stares at me, uncomfortable shifting.

“Rogers, can I have a word in my office?” I say calmly.

If he thought he was going to lead the task force, he had another thing coming.

“Fine,” Steve follows.

I hear a soft 'oooo' of worry from the room as we leave it and go into my office. Once there I shut the door, something I rarely do but I don't need anybody hearing this exchange.

“Let me make one thing clear Rogers. This is _my_ task force,” I turn to face him once the door is closed. “My detectives and PCs report to _me_. You are here as a courtesy and as my guest. You are _not_ here to be my boss. I would respectfully ask that you don't pull a stunt like that again.”

It's the first proper emotion other than scowling that I've seen on his face. I don't think he was expecting resistance.

“I led the investigation in the US and I'm not going to let you make the same mistakes I did. You can benefit off of my errors.”

“Then give me advice but don't stage a coup,” I match his folded arms. “Or are you one of those control freaks who can't let go?”

“If control freaks are ones who get their job done right then yes,” the tone is hostile, icy.

“Then do your job by assisting.”

“I'm assisting by taking over the team. Your case so far is nothing special and you don't have the experience of dealing with this guy. I could run Operation Elsa much more effectively.”

“Like you did with your investigation when you let him escape to another country?” I throw that back in his face. “Because that just _screams_ competence.”

The way he tenses up, I become acutely aware he's one of those gym worshippers from the way his suit is straining and I really hope he's not going to take a swing at me right now because I am most decidedly _not_ a gym goer. I'm also terrible in a fight.

“You're gonna be a complete pain in my ass the whole time I'm here, aren't you?” he settles for, coming up close.

“That's me.”

“Okay, have your taskforce but if he does the same to you, it can be your ass on the line and not mine. You hide anything from me though during this investigation and we're gonna have a problem.”

“Roger that, Rogers,” I stare up at those furious blue eyes. “Now get the fuck out of my office and go help Tony brief my team. I have a meeting scheduled with the family in half an hour's time.”

“I'll sit in on that if you don't mind.”

Pretty sure we're almost nose to nose at the moment but I'm not backing down in the slightest. I won't be intimidated.

“As long as you're quiet. Better hurry up with your briefing then. You've only got twenty five minutes now. Tick tock.”

There's the faintest curl of amusement to his lips before he brushes past me and out of the door where my team, who'd obviously been eavesdropping, scattered quickly back to the task force office.

Ray gave me a meaningful look before pointing to Steve's receding back, then to me and putting his finger through his other circled and making fake moans.

“You stop that right now before I give you a cake tax,” I frown.

“Whatever you say, Ma'am,” he just sniggers before getting back to work.

**

He'd been stalking her for a couple of days now, noting everything down in his battered diary.

She'd get up every day at seven on workdays, prance about in her lingerie and then put on some tailored power suit. When she'd have male company, she'd kick them out of bed like they were nothing more than a service to her and throw them out so she could be ready on time.

He hated her.

He hated her lofty notions of disposable romance, hated her disdain for tradition and hated her for being above her station. He couldn't wait to have her under him, begging for her life as she realised she wasn't in a position of power at all. She was just another weak little girl playing at business.

He was hidden in the trees in her garden, binoculars trained as he watched her take a few phone calls in her bedroom. Even now, in the comfort and privacy of her own home, she still exuded that attitude that career hungry bitches like herself expressed in their pretty sneers.

She wouldn't have that sneer when he wrapped his hands around her throat.

He could just imagine the fear starting in her eyes, the frenzied struggling and the regression back to her natural place in the world. He was getting hard thinking about it.

He started stroking himself in the tree, fist curled around his cock as he saw her throw the phone into the corner of the room and flop on the bed. It wasn't long before she was reaching in the bedside drawer and pulling out a vibrator, legs splayed and back arched as she worked off the tension of the work day.

He'd have to steal it from her when he got around to breaking into her house. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any kind of pleasure.

He reached his peak before she did, coating the inside of his boxers as he imagined the tears on her face and the game to come, the game where he'd take away her power, the game before he'd kill her.

Bucky couldn't wait. He'd already made her snowflake for her.

It was nearly time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You clash with Steve further and The Winter Killer moves onto the next stage of stalking his victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Misogyny, stalking, murder (graphic scene). This is a very dark fic so please heed all warnings.
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

I'm sure my butting of heads with SSA Rogers made for some funny stories for my team as we compared The Winter Killer's M.O over the next few days.

I'd catch Ray in the canteen making jokes about how long it was going to be before we ended up shagging but he swiftly kicked his recollections when Steve stood right behind him as he gave his spiel and then berated him in front of the whole station. Even Tony was doing the same but in a much more subtle way.

He'd become instant best friends with Ray and they'd go to the pub after work to wind down, sometimes taking Nick along with them. Dave was the only one to have any kind of sensibility but then, with what he was going through at home, it wasn't surprising.

From what we'd compared, The Winter Killer had changed their modus operandi since coming to England, possibly to avoid detection in the first instance but they'd expanded on their previous methods in America. He'd gone from stalking his victims for days and playing mind games by breaking in and moving items before finally strangling them to death in fields to short, quick killings without much prep.

The fourth was the anomaly, the escalation where the victim was stripped and hands were used. She'd never reported any suspicious activity before either.

“It could be a copycat?” Dave suggested. “For the first three girls?”

“If it was a copycat, they'd leave a snowflake. They wouldn't just choke and run,” I'm pouring though crime scene photos. “This is probably the equivalent of testing the waters or eating junk food before going on to cook a main course dinner.”

“It's the same cord thickness and pattern too,” Steve adds, like he's determined to say something clever whenever I make a comment. “He must've brought it with him.”

“So with the timeline we can estimate he's come over at some time in the last two months,” I take control of the conversation back. “The last murder was New York so feasibly he would've gotten a flight from there or the neighbouring states. Our first murder happened in Hackney so they likely came through Heathrow or Gatwick at a push.”

“Tony, you think you can pull off flight manifests and check for a long haired brunet man?” Steve asks the IO who's on his sixth biscuit of the hour.

“Oh sure, I'll just sift through hundreds of records,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Do you have any idea how many people fly from just _one_ airport and you want me to check _several_ flight paths?”

“What if he wore a wig or a hat?” Ray points out. “Even harder to find then.”

“Look, it's one of the only leads we have from America. Just....DCI, would you like to do the honours?” Steve corrects himself, nearly making a bid for control of the team again.

“Tony, I know it's a daunting task but you can do it,” I encourage him. “This investigation will be a whole lot easier with a positive ID to circulate.”

“See Rogers? That's the nice way to ask,” Tony points. “I'll get on that but it's gonna take weeks. I suggest you find another lead.”

“Right, well at the rate he's travelling up the M1-” I go to the map and draw a line. “-he'll be hitting the Sheffield area most likely.”

“Can you warn the patrols in Sheffield?” Steve leans on the table.

“With what information? We don't have a description,” I shrug. “All the forces are aware he's in the country and I'll talk to the Chief Constable of South Yorkshire to trawl for burglaries on single female dwellings but I can't do much beyond that right now.”

“This is frustrating,” Steve sighs. “It was much easier when there was clear evidence of stalking. We need to go to the press.”

“Absolutely not,” I frown. “You'll start mass panic. He may even skip out of the UK all together if you do that.”

“He won't. You don't know him like I do,” Steve's voice could almost be mistaken for an admiring tone, a fondness. “He likes to show off. He likes people to notice his work. The only reason Winter ran was because I nearly caught him. He'll stay as long as he thinks you're nowhere near making an arrest.”

“And how did you nearly catch him?” Dave asks.

“He tried to kill my boss,” Steve slumps into the seat. “It's only because she called me round for....anyway, Peggy survived and that was the main thing but Winter had already gotten out of the window and ran off before I could see him.”

“Shit,” we all chorus our disbelief before I add onto it. “You were fucking your boss?”

“ _That's_ the main take away you got from that?” Steve shakes his head. “I was three feet away from the son of a bitch and he got away but if I'd chased after him, Peggy might not have lived.”

“You did what you had to do, no shame in that,” Ray shrugs. “Guy's got a type, yeah? Powerful women? You'd better watch out, Ma'am. Might make a bid for you too.”

“Yeah I don't think a DCI is very high on his list, Ray. I'm not exactly CEO material,” I scoff but Steve gives me a strange look.

“Anyway, lunch is on me today,” Tony cuts through the awkward silence that follows. “But if anybody orders steak, I'm gonna suggest them as Winter's next victim.”

That breaks the little bubble of tension as the rest of the growing task force peters out towards the hall. I'd added another couple of DCs since to help.

Steve catches me before I can go out, “He's right, Ray I mean. He may be a relic from the 90s but he's right. You should be careful. If it gets out you're leading this task force, you're putting a target on your back.”

“I'm fine, Rogers,” I brush his hand off my arm. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Thanks for the concern though.”

It's probably the most civil he's been to me since he got here and knowing the backstory, I can see why.

**

Bucky was in her house, rankled by the expensive perfume that seemed to be soaked into everything from the walls to the furniture.

Every single bit of luxury offended him greatly and he'd love nothing better than to ruin them, mar them, stain them irreparably but that'd be too big of a move. His games were much more subtle.

He crept to the bedroom, first going through the bedside table and pocketing her sex toys before moving to the chest of drawers and searching for the most outrageous lingerie she owned. He finally struck gold with some criminally skimpy lace thing with the crotch cut out.

This would do.

He balled it up and placed it haphazardly under the pillows and sheets of the bed so it'd look like an oversight on her part. He loved it when they got confused, when they'd brush it off as a mistake or misplacement.

Bucky'd gotten so much better at doing this over the last year, making them think they were going crazy.

He left the house, everything perfectly in place and climbed up the tree again, knowing she would be back soon. In the mean time he looked at his pilfered collection of toys, tutting as he handled each one.

“Well you're just a regular little whore, ain't ya?” he mused out loud. “With all the cock you get and you still need more? And of this size too? No wonder you don't sound very satisfied with a man between your legs.”

But now he had them and she'd have to make do until he chose the perfect night to strike, the perfect night for her to die.

He looked back and saw she was home and he revelled in watching her bewilderment at the empty bedside drawer. She wouldn't call the police though, no. Too embarrassing.

Who wants to admit their sex toys have been stolen, especially a large amount of them like this?

“Too bad, honey,” he laughed to himself. “You'll have to keep your hands off yourself for now. I'll see you real soon.”

**

The pub was packed when I got in.

I had expected Dave not to show up but I didn't expect Steve to be there, drinking a pint. I'd always pegged him as the 'never have fun' type.

He just gives me a nod and stands up until I've sat down. I find the motion quite old fashioned but it's quaint in a way.

Ray slides my drink over before getting back to his animated conversation about technology with Tony. Nick is trying to keep up with the lingo but failing miserably.

“Didn't think I'd see you here,” I turn to Steve, not wishing to jump into their conversation.

“I'm not a robot. I don't live and breathe work 24/7,” he gives me the side eye.

“That's surprising,” I laugh. “You look like you work, workout and go to bed and that's it...well apart from bonking the boss, of course.”

“I wish I'd never said anything now,” he looks heavenward.

“It's just friendly teasing,” I nudge him. “Don't take it personally.”

“What about you? You got someone at home to go to?”

“No, just me. Nobody wants to date a woman who works all hours of the day and night. Rarely works out.”

“I hear that,” he snorts. “Same for me.”

“Ey up, Ma'am,” Ray interrupts. “You just gonna nurse that drink all night or what?”

“I've got to be up in seven hours, Ray. When the drink's gone it means I go home,” I wiggle it a bit.

“Oh come on. Another one won't kill you,” Nick joins in.

“Oh fucking hell, fine,” I down the glass. “Just one more. We'll have a proper night out when we catch this guy. A real bender.”

“Deal,” Ray points with a grin. “Nicky, your round.”

“They like you a lot, don't they?” Steve remarks, watching the dynamic as Nick gets up.

“I think they do but I can't be sure.”

“It's nice to see.”

We ended up banally chatting way past when I should've been asleep.

In the end, I just went back to the office and slept at my desk for a couple of hours until Dave found me with my face stuck to the national database print outs.

“Ma'am, there's been another murder in the night.”

**

  
His adrenalin was spiking as he slipped into her house in the dead of night.

He already knew which floorboards creaked, where the sharp corners of the walls were and the shadowy recesses to hide in. He stole up to the top floor, looking through the slot of the door hinge to make sure she was asleep.

He could hear the quiet snores and went in, standing at the edge of the bed for a while just watching. He liked watching.

In sleep she was vulnerable.

He got the gag out, the cord and placed it next to her on the bed as she slept on, oblivious to his presence. For just a moment more, he let her be peaceful before he struck.

Bucky pounced on her, jamming the gag into her surprised mouth and managing to buckle it before fighting with her flailing arms and using the cuffs in his belt to secure her hands to the headboard. He could see the fear in her eyes mixed with indignation, with rage. She still believed she was in control.

“Keep quiet for me and you may just live through this,” he says softly. “Piss me off and...well...”

She makes a noise of frustration before settling down. At least she had some common sense.

Now he had her, his urges were only getting bolder. This wasn't enough any more. He needed more. He needed to humiliate her, she was still so haughty.

He took his knife, slit her PJs right open to expose the skin and cut and cut until he could completely tear them away and leave her naked before him. Only then did she quail, only then did he see true terror on her face.

Bucky relished seeing her shiver, the goosebumps rise and her lips start quivering. This is exactly what he wanted.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you?” he purrs, straddling her chest. “Look at you. Helpless.”

Both hands come around her neck and her eyes blow wide as she realises what's happening. She tries to get out of the cuffs, screams around the gag but he just presses tighter and tighter. He watches her eyes roll back in her head, her body convulse and the sheer panic take hold.

And then it was over, then he was wrapping the cord around her neck and pulling hard, making marks on her skin. He needed to cover his tracks.

Bucky then laid her out with her sex toys around her like some twisted burial treasure, placed the snowflake and then took a picture for his own personal viewing. He snuck out the same way he came in, quiet as anything.

He got back to his car, drove until he was tired and pulled up in a layby, the adrenalin still running through his body as his hand dove into his pants and he satisfied himself. It was good but it was nowhere near how it used to be.

She wasn't high enough to drag down, to subjugate. He needed someone more high profile.

He'd drive a few hours tomorrow and try again, always trying again to be like the first time. It'd be like the first time again eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another victim and you’re forced to go public at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Tense work environment, misogyny
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

“Where?” I sit up ramrod straight. “Where was the murder?”

“Sheffield, like you said, Ma'am,” Dave hands over the report. “It's...it's a little worse.”

I grab it, leafing through and seeing the crime scene photo of the naked woman and her sex toys arranged around her. It makes my blood boil.

I storm past Dave into the office and the others aren't there yet but Steve is already awake and sipping coffee. He looks startled at my sudden entrance and dishevelled appearance.

“Did you sleep here?!” he stands up.

“Of course not, I mean yes, I mean never mind. There's been another victim. Look at this,” I babble, throwing the photo in front of him.

He grabs it, paling a little before letting it fall from his fingers, “He's escalating.”

“He is and it feeds into his power play, it....god I need caffeine,” I'm a little wobbly with fatigue still.

“Hey, go wash up and I'll make you something,” Steve steers me to the door. “Maybe find a toothbrush, yeah?”

Self-consciously I don't open my mouth again around him until I manage to do a quick whore's bath in the station sink and fetch my spare toothbrush from the lockers. I'm not winning any pageants but what did I expect for a couple of hours sleep?

When I get back, Steve has set up some coffee and pastries at the head of the table and I take a moment to marvel at the fact he's not fighting me for the best seat for once. Maybe he's finally listening.

“You almost look like a person now,” he cracks a rare smirk.

“Good, my disguise is working then,” I sit down, draining half the cup in one go.

Everyone files in over the next few minutes and I chair the team to order. This was going to be a long morning.

“The Winter Killer killed again last night,” I break the news to those who hadn't heard. “Lottie Dunlan was found by her boss this morning when she failed to show up for work. TOD estimated around midnight, strangulation again with hands and covered up with the cord. He's escalated by stripping the victim completely naked and placing her sex toys around her on the bed.”

“Sex toys?” Nick coughs, hacking up half of his tea. “Why the bloody hell would he want to do that?”

“It's a dehumanising tactic as well as an enshrining one,” Steve passes him a napkin.

Tony grabs the photo and whistles, “That's a _lot_ of toys. She lonely or what?”

“South Yorks say she was quite popular by all accounts,” I shrug. “Some folks just like having a full back up band. Can you see the message Winter was trying to send though?”

“Uh...she needed a cold shower?” Tony guesses.

“That she got about a bit too often?” Ray supplies.

“Sort of,” I shake my head. “This killer is misogynistic. He wants to bring down powerful women and display them for what they are in his eyes. Vulnerable. Clearly he's not too happy with sexually active women either.”

“So he would spare a housewife then?” Dave asks.

“Most likely. Traditional roles and monogamous. Wouldn't be his kind of thrill. Though no evidence has ever been found at the scene or in any of the American cases, I wouldn't be surprised if Winter got aroused by subjugating his victims and...you know.”

“Cracked off a hand shandy?” Ray's fiddling with his cigarettes again and I know that means he's uncomfortable if he's itching for a fix this early.

“A what?” Steve and Tony look confused.

“Jerked off,” Nick helpfully supplies. “Probably does it after to not get any DNA around.”

“Now as for the stalking aspect,” I put the train back on the railroads before this conversation veered into strange territories. “No reports from Dunlan of anything suspicious in the days leading up to her death. I'm afraid to say we have a big fat nothing. No evidence and no witnesses.”

“It's time to go to the press,” Steve gently pushes.

“I think you're right,” I lean on the table, dreading what's to come. “I'll need to run this by the Chief Con. He'll need to be on the panel to address the news crews.”

“As long as he doesn't make it as dry as his budget cut speech,” Nick snorts only to freeze at the sound of a cough behind him.

“I'll try my best, DS Williams,” Chikondi Nalilungwe is standing in the doorway looking more amused than anything.

I think Nick just about shits himself but doesn't dig himself a further hole and shuts up immediately. I'm doing my best not to laugh.

“Sir,” my team choruses and Steve does a sort of half stand up and nod.

“Chief Constable, pleasure to meet you,” he says.

“Hi,” Tony waves, not being one for formal protocol.

“I thought I'd come down to see what steps are being taken considering there's been another victim,” the Chief Con starts, as I offer him my seat at the top of the table. “No thank you, I've been sat sifting through emails all day. Does me good to stand up. My Fitbit keeps yelling at me to move more anyway.”

“You need to get one of those under desk bikes, Kondi,” I smile. “Then you won't need to do jumping jacks every five minutes.”

“Not a bad plan,” he puts his hat on the side. “So I hear you need a press conference arranging?”

“We're on victim number five and I think the public need to be on hyper alert for strange activity. Could be the key to catching him if he goes back to his stalking M.O. I'm hazarding a guess that Leeds is the next area since he doesn't know we exist as a taskforce. He might already be there.”

“And you've weighed up the potential cons of going public?”

“I'm going with SSA Rogers' judgement on this one. He's unlikely to run unless he knows we've nearly got him. Appealing for information or public awareness is not gonna spook him much.”

“If I could suggest, Sir,” Steve stands up, flattening his tie to be smoother. “Show me as the lead for the taskforce. This suspect's type is women in high positions and your DCI would be putting herself at risk to show herself on national television.”

“Fuck off!” I blurt out before realising who's in the room with me. “Sorry Sir but if the public think an American is leading a British investigation, they're going to believe we're incompetent from the start. No offence Steve but if you're anything other than an advisor to Operation Elsa then our credibility is shot.”

“And is that worth potentially putting you on the list of victims?” Steve counters.

“I don't fit his M.O. I'm not some lofty lawyer or business co-founder. I still have a lot of superiors above me.”

“Alright children, that's enough,” Chikondi interrupts. “I agree a united front is a better image than SSA Rogers taking full responsibility but I will say if there's even a sniff of a threat to you, we'll be putting you into a safehouse. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir,” I nod. “Thank you.”

“Very well, I'll make the arrangements. Go home and get a nicer suit for later and please, for the love of God, don't swear on TV.”

He gives me a reproachful look before sweeping out of the room.

“So this is going big time then?” Dave puffs out air. “Hello several hundred phone calls of people claiming to have seen the Winter Killer when it's probably some chav trying to nick their car stereo.”

“Not to mention the mitmots who'll claim they're the killer themselves,” Nick rolls his eyes.

“Since you're so enthused about it, you can sort through the tips, Nicky,” I clap him on the shoulder. “Tony, you've already got your assignment, Ray help him out today, Dave can you get onto South Yorks and see if they have any more information? I'll just go back to my office, go home and change.”

I scurry out, apprehensive at having a camera shoved in my face later but knowing it was necessary. Steve follows me into the office and shuts the door. I can tell he's spoiling for an argument by the way his shoulders are ram rod straight.

“What?” I say uncharitably.

“This isn't smart,” Steve shakes his head. “You keep saying you're not his type but I know his type and you're it.”

“Like I say, I'm middle of the pecking order and even then, with the information about the sex toys, I'm not exactly drowning in company so I don't even meet _that_ criteria. I appreciate the concern, Rogers but you're off the mark on this one.”

“Hey, I'm not,” he catches my elbow as I'm turning so I'll look at him. “I'm worried for you, okay? You're a lot like Peggy and....you shouldn't be putting your face and name out there for him to see. This is dangerous.”

“The Chief Con already okayed it. It's happening.”

“There's time to change it.”

“Steve, what is your problem?” I shake out of his grip. “I don't need to be guided or have someone be my stab vest for me. Just stop.”

“And what happens if he decides you're next, huh?”

“I'll go into the safehouse.”

“No, he won't ever stop. He only stopped going after Peggy because he had to run and then he killed several girls quickly to fill that itch. Our sixth victim moved into a friend's house and he _still_ found her. If you want to be an idiot about this then by all means but you may lose your life over it.”

Not for the first time did I want to do something impulsive like stamp on his foot or shove him into my bookcase but I knew he meant well and it was coming from a place of concern.

“So what do you suggest? Move someone in with me? Pretend to be coupled up? He's never gone after a woman with a partner, has he?”

“Actually yeah. You got a spare room for me?” Steve puts his hands on his hips, daring me to fight back.

“Oh no way,” I laugh. “You can bugger off if you think you're moving in for the duration of the investigation.”

“I can sleep on a couch just fine.”

“I'm sure you can but you won't be doing it on mine.”

“You're not gonna listen to any advice I give you, are you?” he sighs after staring at me for a time.

“I listened to your advice about the chances of Winter fleeing the country.”

“Look, just...just think about it, okay? Please?”

“If I get any threats then you can graciously use my spare room. Does that make you happy?” I gather my coat.

“A little bit.”

“There's no pleasing you, Rogers,” I sweep past, seeing Ray give me another meaningfully suggestive look as I pass.

I just flip him the bird and go home. I needed to look my professional best for later and I was sleep deprived, a complete mess and also really pissed off at Steve's insistence that I don't host the press conference.

Didn't exactly make for a very clean cut look.

**

He'd found the next woman sooner than he expected.

An MP, still young and full of that youthful arrogance in her own wisdoms. He found her social media decrying this and that, talking down to anyone who challenged her ideals.

Bucky'd already followed her from her office to her house without her noticing and when she parked the car at a jaunty angle on the drive, that got him angry for a reason that even he didn't know. He just knew he needed to see her bound and crying. Definitely crying. He'd not had a crier in some time.

He'd noted down her important movements in the house from what he could see in the alleyway behind before going back to his car and scrolling through his laptop connected to some nearby cafe's wi-fi.

His heart skipped a little to see his media name splashed across the news and he clicked on a live stream of the press conference.

“-please be vigilant. Report any suspicious activity, no matter how small-” you were speaking directly to camera flanked by that FBI agent who'd almost caught him in New York.

He'd been so close to squeezing the life out of the director and it was ruined by her surprise late night booty call. SSA Rogers had never come to her house before that night. It wasn't something he could've planned for.

He knew that's why he couldn't quite get the same satisfaction in the girls he'd picked after her. They were too small fry. That's why he'd chosen the MP next.

He watched the conference, noting they didn't have any leads, that he was ahead for now. He'd have to be careful about being noticed in the future though. This woman's house was not as well hidden as the last one's.

Bucky wasn't that concerned though.

What he _did_ find interesting to see was the dynamic between you and Rogers. He knew the FBI agent was very stern, by the book and a natural leader but here he was almost kowtowed and not voluntarily. That was the look of a man who didn't want to be on the side lines with a woman in the spotlight.

Well he could understand that well enough.

The body language too...Rogers was attracted to you but hated himself for it. This was exactly what he'd seen between the director and him those couple of months ago.

“-Above all, if you suspect you've come into contact with The Winter Killer, do not engage. They are highly dangerous. Call the police.”

Bucky's fingers hovered over your face on the screen, almost touching. You were a curious one.

Deference to the Chief of your police force but dislike for the FBI agent who was arguably a similar rank or higher. You weren't arrogant, you weren't haughty, you were just...telling the facts. You were doing a job but you took pride in it, maybe to a fault.

He wanted to know more about you, you the woman who was trying to hunt him down.

You'd be a much more interesting player on the board than Rogers ever was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You travel to where you think the Winter Killer will be and Steve becomes even more protective. Meanwhile Bucky is trying to avoid detection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Murderous intentions, misogyny, non-con thoughts
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

As expected, the hotline had blown up with tips about the Winter Killer and most of it was utter utter nonsense.

Everyone and their mums was ringing in to throw their neighbours, ex-partners or some dodgy person they'd seen on the street under the bus. That wasn't counting all the people who'd rung in claiming to be the Winter Killer themselves either.

I was so glad I didn't have to wade through all of the callbacks.

Instead I was in my own personal hell on a drive up to Leeds with Ray driving, Nicky and Dave in the backseat and Steve sandwiched in between them. Tony was staying behind to continue to look through airport footage so my only source of cheer was Ray's remarks about some of the calls he'd listened in on.

Dave really shouldn't have come with his home life situation but I think he wanted to still be a part of the team, however it meant he was quiet, contemplative. Nick was just uncomfortable being squashed against the window by Steve's bulk, which was ridiculously ungainly in the car, so he wasn't saying much either.

Steve was just....well he was Steve. Brooding to a fault.

I could tell he didn't approve of us going to Leeds Force Headquarters but was biting his tongue for now. That didn't mean he didn't make his displeasure known by huffing loudly whenever he got the chance and crossing his arms which caused Dave and Nick to slide even further into the door.

When we finally got up there, I couldn't get out of the car fast enough to the hotel to dump my luggage in but fortune decided to slap me in the face when everyone else got their keys first and disappeared off which just left Steve and I waiting there.

“One double room as requested, twin beds,” the receptionist hands over the key.

“Wait, there's been some sort of-” I start but Steve just takes the key and thanks the girl before dragging me off the side to have a quiet word.

“What are you doing?!” I yank my arm out of his grip. “I need to get this fixed.”

“I called the hotel before we left and requested this specifically,” Steve lowers his voice. “I don't want you in a room on your own when Winter knows your face and he's in the area.”

“I'm not sharing a room with you.”

“Yes you are and if that's the only ground I can ever gain in this investigation I will die on that hill but I want you to be safe, not to come across your body. Do you understand?”

“You're stepping over the line, Rogers,” I hiss as he pulls me into the lift. “This is completely unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional yes, pragmatic, also yes. I'm not asking you to sleep with me here. I'm just asking to be in the room so if he does find you, I can get him first or I can protect you. I don't care how good you think you are at self defence, this guy is strong and he's smart and he has nothing to lose. Please.”

“I snore. _Loudly_ ,” I try to put him off.

“Then I'll have to fall asleep before you do,” he shoots me a glare as the lift trundles upwards. “Stop trying to fight me on everything. I'm not here to take your case away, I'm here to help.”

“Help yourself more like,” I grumble under my breath as the doors open and we go into the room.

Twin double beds greet me and they're not far enough apart for my liking. This feels invasive.

“Get it through your head,” Steve rounds on me. “You have no idea how much danger you're in so take it from the person who's actually seen this happen. Do you think I had a picnic seeing Peggy being strangled? She was going purple in the face by the time I opened the door and half of her clothing was ripped from the struggle. That image _still_ haunts me and I'll be damned if I have to see that again with someone else, so just accept I'm in the fucking room, okay?”

“Okay!” I hold up my hands. “Jesus H Christ, you're really heavy on the guilt-tripping. We'll be in the same room then but leaving at different times. I don't want my taskforce thinking something else is going on. I already get teased enough.”

“Trust me, I know. Ray's not been subtle,” Steve flings his bag onto the bed before flinging himself onto it next. “Do you mind if I take a quick nap before we go out? I didn't sleep so well.”

“Sure, I'll go talk to the others so I'm not keeping you awake.”

“Alright,” he's already slurring a little bit as he kicks off his shoes and settles into a ball.

I have no idea how he can look so comfy in such an awkward position but I have to say when he's asleep and he's not giving me an earful, he's actually quite an attractive man.

I leave but I don't go to speak to Ray, Dave and Nick. They already know what time we're heading to meet with Leeds Central CID.

Instead I go out, I take a walk to stretch my aching legs that have been cramped up in a car for a couple of hours. It's cold, cold and overcast but it's quite nice to just get away from all of the testosterone back there.

I grab myself a coffee, just strolling along and trying to work out what type of victim the Winter Killer might go for next. Would they be business related? Someone higher up in the chain? It was obvious to me he was frustrated at the 'small fry' women he'd murdered lately so I had to imagine he'd try for someone with big status.

I'd have to draw a list of the highest ranking businesswomen, government officials and even very highly ranked community members too. I couldn't say for definite his hatred of women was limited to those with a lot of financial backing behind them.

I was lost in my daydream thoughts, my mental case notes when I rounded the corner and crashed straight into someone, bursting the coffee cup all over myself and them.

“Oh I'm so sorry!” I panic, getting tissues from my pocket and offering them out to the man who'd just bounced back off of my body.

“No it's my fault,” an American accent makes me freeze but when I see short hair, I relax a little. “I wasn't looking where I was going.”

“Neither was I. Do you need any money for dry cleaning or-”

“It's fine,” he flashes me a handsome smile. “Really, it was my fault. I took the corner too sharply. Can I get you a replacement drink?”

“You don't have to.”

“I _want_ to.”

“Uh sure then. There's a Costa on the other side of the road and I can clean up,” I look down at my ruined white shirt which was showing the lace of my bra through and I hope he hasn't noticed.

“Lead the way. I have no clue where I am,” he laughs. “Got lost trying to find where my new office is gonna be.”

“And what do you work in?” I ask.

I'm not an idiot, okay. American guy in Leeds, of all places, with brown hair, I'm pretty wary but I also think the Winter Killer bumping into me in the street is a laughable probability score. Still, I'm not taking the chance it _isn't_ him and I want to get as much information as possible.

“Video games,” he answers without any hesitation or fidgeting. “Gonna be working at Rockstar but I'm scoping out the area to get my bearings. I can't say I like the weather much here though than Florida.”

“Is that where you're from?”

“Yep,” he nods, paying for our coffees as he's handed them and I'm dabbing my shirt clean. “Long way to go I know but I've always liked British culture. What about you? You look kinda fancy in that suit.”

“Middle management for an investigation firm,” I give him a vague answer. “Not as exciting as video games. Thanks for the coffee....”

“Bucky,” he shakes my hand. “You wanna sit together for a while or do you have places to be?”

“I....” I glance at my watch. “I got a bit of time before my next meeting. So Bucky, tell me about Florida.”

**

The more I grilled Bucky, the more it became obvious with his level of detail when asked probing questions and the vagueries of his memories that he was most likely genuine.

He was actually really nice to talk to and quite an old fashioned kind of gentleman because he helped me into my coat when I was about to leave, which was nice of him. I could've found the gesture condescending but he never gave that vibe when doing it.

“I know this might be a bit forward but...could I give you my number?” Bucky asks as we get outside. “I had a great time and I'd really like to see you again but if I give you my number, the ball is entirely in your court that way. Don't feel obliged.”

“Sure. I'm not in Leeds for long but...I'll take your number.”

I was quite flattered to be honest. Bucky was someone way out of my league.

He scribbled it down in the small calendar book I kept on me at all times before we parted ways and I went back to the hotel.

When I got to the room, Steve was in the exact same spot where I'd left him, still fast asleep. I took the opportunity to grab a new shirt and change in the bathroom before coming back out and the noise of the door must've startled Steve because he awoke with a jerk like he was expecting trouble.

“It's just me, I'm back,” I pass him.

“What happened to your clothes?” he notices the brown stain on the white fabric I'm carrying.

“Knocked into the door when I was getting coffee. I hope this place has a laundry service.”

“Did you go outside?”

“Not for very long. There's a café across the street.”

“Just be careful, okay?” he stretches before trying to smooth out the creases in his own clothing. “Let's get this meeting done. I already need more sleep.”

The meeting dragged though. It was clear there were no credible sightings yet and their tips were shoddy at best. The most I could do was brief their Chief Constable of the investigation so far, minus a few key details, and hope this could help them sort the wheat from the chaff.

It was about one in the morning when I finally got back to the hotel and I managed to beat Steve to the shower, changing into my Pjs in the bathroom for modesty and settling into the unfamiliar bed for the night. Steve, however, did me no such courtesy when he came out, only a towel around his waist and skin glistening from the water. The knot near his hip looked like it might come undone at any moment and I looked anywhere but at him until he gathered his own night clothes. Suffice it to say, my earlier suspicions about him being a gym body were a hundred percent correct.

Once we were lying in the dark, I don't think either of us were keen to sleep but also too exhausted to do much else. I kept wondering how long it was going to be before another body turned up if a good tip didn't come in soon.

“Can't sleep?” Steve whispers across the gap.

“Trying to.”

“Ever done a case this big before?”

“No, never.”

“It's okay to feel overwhelmed. I did the first time I chased a serial killer.”

“Which one was that?”

“We called him the Red Skull. Used to boil his victims and spray paint the skulls red and leave them on weird totems for us. The amount of times I nearly puked on the job was....but you learn to get used to it.”

“Oh so I get to end up like you eventually? That's a cheery thought,” I snort.

“You really don't like me, do you?”

“Oh, you noticed, huh?”

He goes quiet and I think my barbed joke might have actually upset him. I feel pretty terrible in that moment.

“You're just a lot more highly strung than I'm used to. You've seen my lads. They know when to laugh and when to be serious but you rarely switch off. I keep thinking you in the pub was just a mad fever dream I made up to give you some normalcy.”

“I'm not all work and no play,” I can hear him roll over towards me. “I love painting, sketching...anything creative really. I've just never been that guy who gets drunk in a dive bar. Party lifestyle isn't for me but that's not to say I don't kick back with a beer and watch the game sometimes. American Football that is.”

“Look, I didn't mean to be harsh, I'm just getting annoyed you don't trust me to look after myself. It's one thing having prior knowledge, it's another trying to keep me in a gilded cage. The cage is stopping me from doing my job. I'll concede when I think you have a point but please don't keep pushing my limits of comfort.”

“That's fair. I guess I project a fair amount.”

“A lot.”

“Okay, a lot but I'm not joking about Winter. He's a sick fuck and I don't want you in his crosshairs. I'll try to ease off a little if you'll accept me a little. How's that?”

I lean back in the pillows, “I think that's a deal, Steve. I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Long day.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

I don't sleep well with other people in the room usually but the clearing of the air had helped me to relax enough to be able to drift off.

**

Bucky was fresh from the barbers, running his hands over his shorter hair and hating it but knowing it was necessary.

The second that press conference had gone live, even though they'd never mentioned his hair length, he knew he had to have left some strands behind at some point. He couldn't be inconspicuous with it any more.

He was walking to the town library to do some research about the MP's house, thinking about what he'd get her to do when she was under him and sobbing her heart out when he rounded the corner and smashed into somebody coming the other way.

Coffee went all over him and he was about to get mad when he looked up and saw you. _You_.

The lead investigator on his case.

No fucking way. This was too good to be true.

He watched you panic about ruining his clothes and just knew you weren't some haughty bitch that felt too superior to apologise. He liked that. That's how things were supposed to be.

So he offered you a replacement coffee, partly as a reward and partly to get to know you a little more. He'd never had the chance with SSA Rogers but you'd practically dropped into his lap.

Bucky couldn't help but commit the sight of your sodden shirt and what lay under it to memory before queuing up to pay. God, he knew you had a beautiful body just from that brief glimpse and not even the severe business chic could take away the natural prettiness of your face.

No wonder Rogers wanted to fuck you so bad.

You asked him difficult questions, no doubt highly suspicious about running into an American in this out of the way city but he'd already prepared a script like this long ago in case he ever got interrogated. He was too organised to trip up.

So he sat with you, drinking his drink but not really tasting it, too fascinated watching you speak. The dichotomy in you was so interesting. Here was the woman who showed active scorn for someone like Rogers but take you out of the law enforcement environment and you were sweet, a little shy even. Not good with men, that's for sure. That also meant you'd probably not bedded many either.

Even better.

Although he answered politely, his mind was racing. His eyes would flick to your neck and he'd just imagine squeezing it until you moaned for him, not sure if he was going to give you pleasure or do much worse to you. His eyes would then flick to your lips and he'd daydream about them around his cock, forced right to the back of your throat as you stayed on your knees like a good girl. He'd also imagine the begging words that would come out of them.

Would you be begging for your life or for release?

He found he was leaning heavily towards for release for the first time since he could remember.

Then his eyes would roam down, down to your chest which was still a little visible through the drying shirt and the urge to cup, crush your breasts to him was taking root in his fantasy.

It was extremely unusual for him to be thinking this way, to not want to dispose of you since you were trying to hunt him down but Bucky found he didn't want to kill you.

He wanted to subjugate you.

He wanted to look you in the eye and know he'd won, to take you as his prize for doing so as he drove out the last remaining vestiges of your stubborn defiance.

His cock was getting so hard to the thought and it was difficult to keep the conversation natural but he managed it. He was thankful his jeans were tight and mostly held his erection down.

When he gave you his number and watched you leave, he really was hoping you'd get in contact with him. He wanted every opportunity to study you, know everything about you so he could twist it and use it against you at a future date.

Maybe that's why he gave you his actual nickname, a proffered clue because deep down he wanted you to know what he'd done. He wanted to see the fear in your expression and the realisation.

You'd just had a coffee date with the Winter Killer and never even known.

Bucky never made it to the library, choosing instead to walk by the MP's house again but his intentions were becoming more and more gnarled. He didn't want a simple kill any more, the begging, the struggle and the stilling of a body. He was full of lust and a singular desire to dominate absolutely and that was mingling with his urge to murder.

He decided the MP would be a test run, a way to practice before he finally had you in his grasp because he wanted your subjugation to be absolutely perfect.

You deserved nothing less.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick notes about police hierarchy here:
> 
> CC - Chief Constable. Top of the police force
> 
> DCI - Detective Chief Inspector. Head of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID)
> 
> DS - Detective Sergeant
> 
> DC - Detective Constable
> 
> PC - Police Constable


End file.
